[Chapter 2 part 2] Astra – Restless Introductions

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“I’m Dawn Skyfell.” Her daughter bowed elegantly. Looking around confused, the fairy stood and did a somewhat-clumsy imitation. I wish she wouldn’t steal my summons.

On the surface, Dawn seemed a success story. She was polite, competent, and intelligent. She was also, by far, the strongest, with only Soul coming close. Appearances can be deceiving. Inside the girl hid an ego the size of the sun.

Dawn had excelled from a young age, developing a concerning pretentiousness. One self-important asshole can deflate an entire unit. To preempt trouble, Astra had stressed vanity’s shallowness. Those possessing real strength don’t need outside validation. To everyone’s relief, Dawn internalized the advice, adopting a modest demeanor. Life went on smoothly until recently, when the facade had began to crumble. Every so often, undiluted arrogance would escape the girl’s lips. Astra had been horrified by how far the narcissism had progressed. If she voiced her thoughts all the time, she’d be insufferable.

“I’m Hope Skyfell,” announced a girl with auburn hair. “It’s so thrilling meeting someone new. So, in celebration…”

With an underhand throw, Hope sent pebbles flying. These soon flashed, scattering wandering orbs of every hue which kept exploding and multiplying. The soundless pyrotechnics transformed the space into a kaleidoscope.

Hope was an enchantress, able to fuse power into objects, either as one-time spells or permanent enhancements. Despite this amazing talent, she was sadly in the same situation as Wise. Astra vaguely knew that enchanters wove magic into their flesh, but the specifics were a mystery. Without a martial art, Hope relied heavily on her enchanting, spending all her time toiling in her workshop. It was for naught. On top of their formidable magics, her siblings could move at prodigious speeds and turn their bodies to steel. No amount of enchantments could erase this advantage. Hope had never even beaten Wise.

Realizing its futility, Astra had exempted the girl from matches. Or at least I tried to. Hope would have none of it, insisting on the same training. I suppose that’s better than her despairing or rebelling. Born from bitterness, Hope had developed an uncompromising stubbornness. This inner turmoil had made her a feared mischief maker. Enchantments make excellent booby traps.

“My turn!” The boy with the scarf leaped high, and Astra’s heart sank. What’s he planning? His arms became a blur, sending shurikens in every direction. Each collided with a drifting light, and the room darkened until only the blue of frost fire remained. Her son landed, one hand on the ground, “I’m Light Skyfell, future master ninja.”

Light stood and crossed his arms, head tilted forwards and eyes closed. He favored this pose recently. I must teach them proper introductions.

Light was obsessed with all things ‘cool’. This dated back to when the boy had gotten hold of a popular book series called ‘Tales of the Shinobi’. The fictional warriors within had captured his imagination, and his life now revolved around them.

She’d made no attempt to rein him in, knowing many others who shared his strange passion. There are city-states dedicated to fulfilling the vision laid out in those novels. On Enera, eccentricity could be a strength. No, the issue lies elsewhere.

“That wasn’t nice.” Hope grimaced. “Why’d you do it?”

Light’s eyes widened in panic, and his hands flailed wildly. Finally, he mumbled, “sorry.“

Astra shook her head. She’d noticed Light’s feelings two years ago. What do you do after discovering your son has a crush on his sister? Fortunately, he had yet to confess, and Hope was too preoccupied to notice. That didn’t stop Astra from losing sleep. I’d rather fight a colossal undead than deal with this stress.

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“I’m Soul Skyfell, future hero.” Said the silver-haired boy on the far right. “Welcome to Earth’s End.”

Soul… During the Dark Age, Astra had stopped grieving the dead. At first there wasn’t time, with battles flowing into one another. When a lull eventually came, she’d come to a realization. There were losses so soul-crushing that processing them was impossible.

She’d never come to terms with her brother’s death. How could I mourn him but not the others? Those times he drifted to mind, the rest came too. Not just people, but places gone forever. Little of the old Earth was left. Entire regions had disappeared without a trace. An eternity wouldn’t be enough to accept it.

Soul was a living reminder of Ethan. In his presence, the forgotten would surge back. She’d struggled as the boy grew until stumbling on an epiphany. It was the disconnect that was killing me. When Soul acted contrary to Ethan, she’d instinctively reject it. To escape this torment, she’d filled her son’s head with heroic aspirations and molded him in her brother’s image. Everything to eliminate the deviations. Depriving him of his own choices… It might be the worst thing I’ve done.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Simon said. “My name is Simon Black. I was sent by Lily Morgana, ruler of the Isle of Dreams.”

Astra addressed her children, “I must hear what he has to say. If you’re silent, you can listen.”

She started down a corridor, sending blue flames ahead. This place is always dark and empty. Her real home was below, an abandoned habitat taken over millennia ago. Later, when the greedy fools had come, she’d grown concerned they might target this living space. She’d constructed the fortress to prevent this, and it’d proved a decent distraction.

They entered a room with a long table flanked by regal chairs. An imitation banquet hall. Astra installed herself at the head and invited Simon to face her. Her children settled on either side.

“Why were you sent?” Astra asked.

Simon slid her an envelope, “Arther Bard is dead. You’re named his successor. If you accept, I’m to accompany you back to the Isle of Dreams.”

Another fallen… Astra closed her eyes and leaned back. This messes up my plans. She’d intended to rely on the guild when the children turned eighteen. Now that needed rethinking. Catching herself, she suppressed a sullen grin. Sorry Arther, old habits die hard… Once again, her first reaction was to deliberate. It’s who I am.

“When you say Arther Bard… You mean the hero? And he’s dead?” Silver broke in.

Fearlessness is a pain. “Simon is a necromancer. Don’t waste time doubting him. Also…” Astra’s eyes snapped open. “…if you can’t keep quiet, you can’t stay.”

As she glared, memories of Arther engulfed her. I shouldn’t have looked. Shifting her gaze, she saw awkward anticipation around her. Guilty excitement, they’re dying to interrogate Simon.

Astra unsealed the envelope and skimmed its content, “Why you?”

“As a resident of the Isle, I’ve often acted as messenger for Lily and Arther.” Simon explained. “I was the obvious choice. Also, I can operate comfortably in cold temperatures.”

“How did he die?” Astra continued.

“His head was found on a spike in the Isle’s Undercity. The rest of him is missing.”

She frowned, “Who killed him?”

“It’s all but certain the Laughing Man was responsible.”

“Is that a joke?”

“It’s NOT.” Simon exclaimed, showing his first real emotion. He quickly composed himself. “He identifies himself as ‘the Laughing Man’ to mock his victims. It’s an appropriate moniker as he finds the misery of others endlessly funny. His origin and motives remain unclear. He appeared five hundred years ago and has been a pestilence ever since.”

“How has such a person been allowed to roam free?” Astra pressed.

“He has the ability to teleport enormous distances and the strength to match Arther Bard. In his own warped way, he’s a genius. So far he’s proved impossible to stop despite the efforts of many, myself included.” Simon paused. “Excuse me, but just how out of touch have you been?”

Astra shrugged, “Once I moved here, I largely ceased caring. That said, I remember Nero telling me about taking in orphans, survivors of a massacre by a laughing madman. To think that psychopath would kill Arther…”

“There’s more.” Simon added. “On a wall nearby, it was written in blood: ‘in celebration of the new Dark Age’.”

“What?!” Astra’s voice dropped to glacial territory.

Simon kept going, “While there are no signs that one is likely, the Laughing Man seems to believe otherwise. This is frightening many.”

Silence echoed. Slowly, Astra spoke with veiled rage, “So this ‘Laughing Man’ used Arther’s murder to announce a Dark Age…”

It’ll make life harder for Free. Astra seethed as her mind raced. This has to be stopped, yet I can’t leave the children behind. Must I take them? They aren’t ready. Then again, nowhere will be safe if a Dark Age comes…

Astra stood, “I need time alone.” She motioned around the table. “In the meanwhile, could I ask you to answer their questions?”

“Sure. I’ll entertain them, then come find you.” Simon said.

“Thank you.” Astra walked out, lost in turbulent thoughts.